Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Day 150

Dearest lil Manu,

You are exactly 150 days today. And that calculates to 150 days / 3600 hours / 21600 precious minutes of being with you, in your company, loving you, caring for you, praying, staying awake, happy, humbled and blessed, only because of you.

I wake up to the sight of you,
Nothing breathes life into me like your smell can do.
Your bright big eyes show me the world,
The world that I can help change, giving them you.
In your eyes, I see a hope so bright,
A light that has illuminated my soul with divine insight.
When you hold my fingers with your tiny fingers,
I sense that trust that'll only better like timber.
When you coo at me, my heart skips a beat,
My soul dances and my life never felt so complete.
When you cry, and tears roll down your eye,
It feels like I am bursting inside and I could die.
When I think of you, there is this calm that seeps into me,
I am flung into the heavens and blossoms any place I might be.
My little baby Manu, I always want to wake up to the sight of you,
Nothing breathes life into me like your smell can do.



Monday, March 18, 2013

Money, its pleasure and its pain.

I hate the end of every month. I have been hating it since I college days. Every single month. For 12 years now. 144 months of pain. I cant wait for this hate to end.

Its the time my finances touch rock bottom. I am so bloody broke that my self esteem goes and sits beside the pauper that sits in the most dirtiest corner of the most busiest street. And it clearly has nothing to do with the amount of money I have in my hands, because I stayed in the same deplorable state with Rs. 2000 monthly, to 20,000 to a lot lot more!

The theories about living the present and having no regrets tomorrow fueled my myopic and shallow view into the larger picture of planning life and I know today, at this moment, that it is not a safe path I am treading today.

I fight with my dad every time he counsels me about how I should manage my money. I tell him that I am living my life. I forget that he had a chance to do that himself, the "living the present" *lavishly* part. But he did not. For us, for our home. And I know that it was exactly why I am here, in the mouth of luxury, having anything that I want for myself, and ever since I could ask. And yet unhappy, unsettled in my mind, feeling ashamed. Those big sacrifices blow hard and make a lot of noise in my chest tonight. It rakes up my soul and literary brings me onto my knees wondering if I pushed fate and luck just too far.

I need to put things into order and take control over my bills, lest I know I am heading for trouble.

I want to wake up tomorrow in the same state of mind, and I want it to last for a long long time. I hope. I want. Badly.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Mother Love.

How often have you heard the term 'Father Love'?

How often have you heard the term 'Mother Love'?

Well, the answer to that questions speaks for itself.

Being a child, it is really difficult to measure which parent contributes / burns themselves to bring you up. And it clearly would be really wrong too, to judge your parents in anyway. But, as a parent bringing up your cherished one, you are in a complete position to analyse and judge how much each one of you put in.

As in our case Babi clearly is a mile ahead of me. And being where I am at the moment, I know clearly why God must have chosen women to be mothers and not men. We clearly dont have that kind of patience and care that a lady can give to her child. We have love, in equal quantities, but yet its manly impossible to match upto mothers. Babi barely has any time in her hands. All the time she has, she is feeding him, putting him to sleep, playing with him, talking to him, bathing him, wiping him, etc and when he goes off to sleep, she's washing his clothes, making a list of things she needs to buy for him, folding and arranging his belongings ~ all in perfect order and symmetrically arranged. (this is the part where she resembles Monica in FRIENDS. She has an OCD with cleanliness and arrangement).

And standing at a distance sometimes, closer at most times, I watch in wonder at this girl who soared around like a butterfly, or maybe like TinkerBell in Peter Pan, spreading happiness in her flutter transform into this gorgeous supermom, whom I look towards with the same respect I have for mine. Letting nothing ill befall her baby, staying awake to make sure her children are sound asleep, etc are attributes I've seen in my mom, and I feel blessed to see all that happening in my home as well.

The relief I get to know that my son will grow up in a similar niche that my mom had made for us, is probably the most fulfilling and happiest of spots for hope to rest.

With that, for the record, Mummy and Babi ~ I truly, TRULY love you both. So so much.

I am attaching a video I picked up online which fully explains about the craft mom's are best at ~ Loving!